


human

by cautiouslyoptimistic



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, Minor Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 05:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15623202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cautiouslyoptimistic/pseuds/cautiouslyoptimistic
Summary: kara danvers was dead, so she said anywayor, kara tries to lose the best part of herself and alex isn't having it





	human

**Author's Note:**

> i've been gone forever and this isn't great or even good or even average but season three gave me feelings and i wrote a few down. sorry in advance if it's shit

Kara Danvers was dead. 

(So she claimed, in any case, repeating that phrase until she was blue in the face, until the disbelieving looks began to fade away and were replaced by fear. 

Fear that she was right. Fear that Kara Danvers really was gone. Fear that after so long and so much, Kara Danvers accepted defeat without a fight.) 

Killing Kara Danvers didn’t take very long. 

(Erasing her from the DEO was easy. That was never her place to be, fiddling with her glasses as she waited for updates on the latest threat they were facing. Kara Danvers the reporter, with her little notebook and urge to put pen on paper and need to find a way to let the people know the  _ truth _ , was the antithesis of the DEO. Her presence was problematic; it was a paradox, an incongruity that needed to be snuffed out. 

With James Olsen, erasing Kara Danvers was a simple affair. Once her rock, a moral touchstone, a  _ friend _ , he became little more than a stranger. He became nothing but her boss, and it was easy to walk away from that relationship, to kill Kara Danvers off. Because James Olsen watched as Kara Danvers died and only took steps to intervene when it was too late. 

She initially thought she’d have trouble erasing Kara Danvers when it came to Winn. After all, he had known Kara Danvers first, had thought of her as his best friend, had liked her before she took off the glasses and let down her hair. But he was immersed in the DEO, never seemed to leave, and whatever friendship was between him and Kara Danvers slowly faded away to be replaced by a singular focus on issues beyond the confines of Earth. That wasn’t to say Winn didn’t notice Kara Danvers’ death; the truth was, he did. The problem was that he didn’t think to act. 

With the others, it was different. Lena didn’t realize Kara Danvers  _ could _ be killed. She didn’t know there was a danger. What she noticed was distance and absence, but she chalked it up to sadness. Lena Luthor, the woman who had trouble making friends and was consistently surprised Kara Danvers had become her friend, wasn’t quite sure how to navigate a situation in which she was forced to fight for her friendship.  _ I miss you _ , she said, not realizing there was nothing left to miss. 

Cat Grant was off doing great things; she didn’t think of Kara Danvers anyway.

Clark had never seen Kara Danvers, had never really known her. After all, he barely knew Kara Zor-El. 

J’onn...J’onn was harder. He fought hard for Kara Danvers. He pleaded and made impassioned speeches. He appealed to the heart rather than the mind, tried to show what losing Kara Danvers really meant. He talked about being a hero, about knowing who to fight for, about how Kara Danvers’  _ humanity _ was what made her special. He fought for Kara Danvers every step of the way, and even when she was dead and gone, he continued to fight for her, not giving up and refusing to admit defeat. He kept looking for a miracle, kept looking for a way to bring Kara Danvers back. 

And then there was Alex….) 

Killing Kara Danvers was necessary.

(Kara Danvers was weak. She was unable to hold onto a job. She was unable to hold onto happiness. She wasn’t capable of helping anyone; she was barely capable of helping herself.

Kara Danvers didn’t belong in this world. She was a mistake, a fluke. Her creation had come out of self-preservation and that was no longer a concern. 

So Kara Danvers had to go.)

Killing Kara Danvers was easy. 

(It wasn’t. Alex was ready to follow Kara Danvers to hell to bring her back. Alex didn’t just fight for Kara Danvers to live, she actively refused to allow Kara Danvers to slip away, looking into the eyes of what remained behind and seeing only her sister. 

Alex...Alex would not let Kara Danvers die.

Because Alex had grabbed hold of her sister’s hand and refused to let go; she had taken it upon herself to claw her sister out of the dark hole she was in inch by inch, climbing out of the ditch agonizingly slowly yet climbing out all the same. 

She carried her sister on her back, shouldered the weight without flinching, never faltering in her faith or her resolve. 

Kara Danvers could not die—not as long as Alex lived.) 

Kara Danvers was dead. In some shape or form everyone had accepted that fact.

And yet Alex Danvers climbed on.

 

X

 

“Pizza or Chinese for dinner?” Alex called out, thumbing through the take-out menus. “Honestly, I’m feeling that tonight is a special occasion kind of night,” she continued, not waiting for Kara to answer, “so let’s go with both.” 

Kara blinked slowly, watching Alex pull out the menus from their favorite restaurants and then look perturbed as she searched for her cell phone. Her head swiveled this way and that, hands running along her pockets of her jacket and jeans to no avail. 

“Hey, Kar, you see my— _ oh _ , there it is,” Alex said in relief, finally locating her phone on the coffee table, laying right there in front of Kara. “You could’ve said where it was, Kara,” she continued, chiding Kara gently and ruining the effect with her smile. “Okay, so let me just call—”

“—what are you doing here, Alex?” Kara interrupted, speaking for the first time since Alex arrived at her apartment, arms ladened with bags full of ice cream cartons, and a wide (if obviously forced) smile on her face. 

“I’m having a sister night with my sister,” Alex said plainly, as if it was obvious, as if the question was a silly one. 

“Alex, we’ve already talked about this—” 

“Stop it.” Alex was no longer smiling her wide smile. She returned to her normal seriousness, something about the change making her seem older than she was, something about the change making Kara feel a twinge where her heart used to be.  

(But Kara Danvers was dead, so that could only be her imagination.)

“Stop what?”

“I already know what you’re about to say. And I’ve had enough of it.” Alex’s voice turned hard, the menus and her phone forgotten on the coffee table. “Kara Danvers is my  _ sister _ . She is my  _ best friend _ . She’s the greatest person I know.” She punctuated each sentence with a jab to Kara’s sternum, and each time, Kara felt that same twinge where her heart used to be. “You’ve been my sister for over half my life,  _ Kara Danvers _ . You don’t stop being my sister just because you feel lost.”

“Kara Danvers was a mistake,” Kara said primly, but Alex wasn’t listening. She turned her attention back to the menus and was debating aloud whether they should get pepperoni on their pizza. “Did you hear me, Alex?” Kara snapped, feeling her anger get the better of her. “There is no Kara Danvers.”

Alex was already on the phone, the ringing tone loud to Kara’s ears, but she made the point of meeting Kara in the eyes. 

“You know,” she said softly, every inch of her radiating heartbreak, turning that twinge in Kara’s chest into what felt like a tangible stake, “I don’t know who you’re trying to convince anymore.” 

(Kara Danvers was dead, Kara Danvers was dead, Kara Danvers was dead.

But no matter how hard Kara tried, she couldn’t shake off that ache in her chest.)

 

X

 

Her dreams had been different lately. 

Normally, Kara dreamt of Krypton. She dreamt of a planet that hadn’t died, of a world that hadn’t been lost. She walked through the streets of Argo City with her father, listened to Astra’s soft voice lulling her to sleep, spent afternoons watching her mother work. Kal-El looked up to her. Her friends made her laugh. The air was filled with a sweetness it hadn’t had when she was young. 

Now, she dreamt solely of Reign. 

She dreamt of Earth crumbling apart, of fire and brimstone and destruction. She dreamt of Clark’s lifeless body, of Lena’s tears, of Alex telling her that she needed her sister. 

She wasn’t sure how to explain to dream-Alex that it was Kara Danvers who would cause that chaos. It was Kara Danvers who would be weak and fail Earth. 

(Kara Danvers was human. How could she explain that it wouldn’t be a human who protected Earth from the Kryptonian Worldkiller? How could she make her sister see that Kara Danvers was a liability? 

Kara Danvers was an act—what could an act do except fall apart and reveal itself to be nothing more than a mirage, a brief moment of hope that was destined to be dashed away?) 

Her dreams were different lately. Where they once provided her a measure of solace, an opportunity for respite from the challenges of life on Earth, they now only made her feel more alone. 

(Kara Danvers was dead and gone, but she couldn’t help but long for her and the people who loved her, her home.) 

 

X

 

Lena and Alex became friends while she wasn’t paying attention, and the strange secret, silent code of communication they had with one another was grating on Kara’s last nerve.

(She found it annoying because they acted as if they were being sly and clever, but Alex at the very least knew that Kara could see them huddled together behind the wall, could hear them whispering in the kitchen, could tell when they were lying just by the aversion of their eyes. 

She found it annoying because Lena was…. Personal. Private. She was Kara’s—or rather, she was Kara Danvers’. Alex’s invasion into that felt jarring. It felt a lot like jealousy.

But she wasn’t human; she was above that nonsense.)

“All I’m saying is that it would revolutionize immunotherapy,” Lena was saying, in the middle of a fierce debate with Alex over the use of alien tech and biology to better life on Earth. 

“And all I’m saying is that you’re going to find it hard to get any willing volunteers for your tests. Most aliens—rightly—don’t trust humans,” Alex said, shrugging as she accepted the glass of wine Kara handed her way. 

“Kara, what do you think?” Lena asked a little desperately, clearly wanting prove Alex wrong. Kara blinked at her sudden inclusion into the conversation. 

(Kryptonians prized logic and reasoning above all else. Theirs was an ancient world, they’d evolved beyond petty anger, beyond envy, beyond all those pesky emotions that so bogged the humans down.

She  _ thought _ differently. She was careful to keep her emotions under lock and key—had to to hide, had to because she was afraid of those depths. 

So the feeling bubbling up inside—boiling over, slipping from her grasp and escaping from that cage she’d constructed—didn’t make any sense to her. After all, she was  _ Kryptonian _ . Why did it bother her that Lena’s first thought hadn’t been to ask Kara for her opinion, but her last one?

Kara Danvers was  _ dead _ , so why did so much of her seem to remain?)

“I think we need more wine,” Kara answered softly, grabbing her jacket and leaving her own apartment. 

She heard Alex’s sigh as she shut the door behind her. 

She heard Lena attempts to comfort Alex.

And try as she might, she couldn’t shake off Kara Danvers’ ghost and that lingering and almost overwhelming desire to turn around and pull her sister and best friend into a hug.   

 

X

 

She listened to the world below her, listened to the humans rushing this way and that, getting through their days the best they could. 

She could hear a frazzled mother attempt to soothe her newborn, could hear a pair of siblings debating how best to raise money for their uncle’s cancer treatment, could hear the rattling lungs of a smoker and the way he timed his drags from his cigarette to hide the sobs threatening to bubble up from his chest. 

She could hear a little girl laugh and jump into her father’s arms as he arrived home.

Hear the barking of a dog and the resigned sigh from its owner and a muttered prayer that the neighbor’s cat would lose interest in annoying the dog soon. 

Hear the broken and hesitant tones from a violin, the clang of a piano, followed by a voice that sang as if it hadn’t been used for that purpose in ages. 

And in the distance she could hear Alex’s heart speed up as she asked Winn if he’d made sure everyone was coming to the impromptu game night at Kara’s apartment, clearly excited about a surprise Alex knew would make Kara Danvers happy. 

Kara drew in a deep breath she didn’t even need and opened her eyes, thinking of this world that she’d sworn to protect.

(She was an alien who was sent to this planet to protect her cousin, an alien refugee that had been spared from the destruction of her home planet. 

Odd, she thought, for her to only now remember that it was Kara Danvers who fell in love with Earth. It was Kara Danvers who marveled at the birds, who couldn’t get enough of the blue sky, who stood out in the storm and allowed it to seep into her skin and cleanse everything away the first time she saw rain. It was Kara Danvers who believed the best in everyone she met, Kara Danvers who hoped and hoped and  _ hoped _ , Kara Danvers who accepted Eliza’s hugs and the gentle way Alex would take her hand and lead her out to the roof, pointing out stars and planets on the nights Kara felt she would suffocate from missing Krypton. 

Odd, she thought, that she would ever forget that it was Kara Danvers who made a home of Earth—a home that consisted of James and Winn and Clark, of J’onn and Eliza and Jeremiah, of Lena and Cat and Lucy, a home she ached for much in the same way she ached for Krypton. Odd that she’d forget the feeling of Alex’s hand taking hers, of Alex’s arms around her shoulders, of Alex’s stiff back as she insisted on carrying Kara even when Kara couldn’t carry herself. 

Odd, she thought, the way regret snuck up on her.)

 

X

 

There was a moment, in between Reign’s final blow and Kara’s seemingly endless descent to the ground, that she wondered about Kara Danvers. 

(It was easy, later on, to blame it on the pain and the concussions. It was easy to think that she’d just been delirious and that state of mind had her wondering about things she had no right to wonder about.

But in her heart of hearts, if she was honest with herself for even a second, she knew that she thought of Kara Danvers in that moment because it was the first time she was truly worried Kara Danvers would be lost forever.) 

She wondered about Cat Grant’s reaction. Wondered if the Queen of All Media would return to National City, not for Supergirl’s memorial, but for her former assistant-turned-reporter. She wondered what Ms. Grant would say, if she’d linger at Kara Danvers’ final resting place, if she’d point out in a whisper that it couldn’t be a coincidence that Kara Danvers and Supergirl left this world at the same time. 

She wondered about Lena. Wondered about how her best friend would connect the dots when it was too late. Would she be angry? Would she feel betrayed? Would the lies and the hurt Kara caused ripple out after her death and turn Lena cold like after Jack?  _ Grief does strange things to my family _ , she had said. Without Kara Danvers, would Lena succumb to the preconceptions the world made about her or would she finally shrug them all off and show the world her heart of gold? 

Most of all, she wondered about Alex. 

( _ Here’s to the Danvers sisters, we should come with a warning. _ )

She wondered about who would hug Alex when she was hurt, who would laugh with her when she was happy, who would have her back even when she was wrong. She wondered about Alex’s future kid, a little boy or girl who would mirror the best of Alex, a little boy or girl that Kara would never see. 

She wondered if Alex had made a home of Kara Danvers the way Kara Danvers had made a home of Alex. And if she had, then what would she do when she lost her home? What would she do when she fell down into that pit out of which she’d painstakingly carried Kara?

What would she do when she lost her reason for climbing? 

(And as Kara rammed into the concrete and slipped into unconsciousness, she found herself wishing more than anything that Kara Danvers could find a way to stay.) 

 

X

 

(She knew she was floating somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. She knew because she could feel a hand in her own, someone’s voice in the distance, but the scene in front of her was that of her apartment, a scene that Kara had replayed again and again in her mind’s eye since it happened.

“Kara Danvers is my  _ favorite _ person,” Alex had sworn, tears in her eyes and determination etched onto her features, into her stance, as she turned away from the door and towards Kara. “Kara Danvers saved me more times than Supergirl ever could.”)

(In her mind’s eye, Kara saw herself in an expansive and overwhelming darkness, the only light coming from Alex’s presence.

She saw Alex take her hand, and guide her out of the darkness. 

She saw Alex help her find her way back home.)

When she finally opened her eyes, she wasn’t at the DEO, but at home. She was laying on her couch, one of Alex’s favorite throws tossed over her, the TV on but muted. She shifted her gaze and saw Clark standing by the wide windows, looking out into the city with his arms crossed over his chest. She saw J’onn and his father attempt to teach Winn Green Martian games. Eliza and James were talking in the kitchen. Lena asked for what sounded like the hundredth time what virus Kara had contracted that had gotten her so sick and was met with a chorus of shrugs. 

And there, sitting on the ground next to the couch, arm twisted in an awkward angle so that she could hold onto Kara’s hand, was Alex. Her eyes were closed, head tipped back on the couch, her breathing even.

So Kara Danvers tightened her grip on her sister’s hand and closed her eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep with Alex by her side, feeling safe, at home, and very much alive.


End file.
